


But I want to

by elenlith



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:17:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenlith/pseuds/elenlith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras had a very bad day. Jehan bosses him around with tea and cuddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've always loved the idea of Enjolras x Jehan. Sadly there's only a handful of fics about them. :( I suddenly felt inspired. Maybe I'll write more,I'm not sure.

Enjolras entered the flat and closed the door with a loud bang. Jehan, who was curled up on the armchair next to the window with a book, winced in surprise. It was dusk, but the lights weren’t switched on yet; the living room was dimly lit, so the poet was able to take a look at his friend without being noticed. Enjolras was leaning against the door, his head hung low. He was clenching and unclenching his jaw, his fists balled up so tightly his knuckles were white. He took a deep breath and swore softly under his breath. Jehan thought he saw tears streaming down his cheeks. It was such an out of character behaviour for Enjolras that the poet had to take a moment to recover from the shock before acting.

He rose from his seat, and hesitatingly called out “Enjolras?”.

The blonde jumped, startled. He instantly passed his hand over his eyes, trying to conceal his tears.

“Oh, hello Jehan. I didn’t see you there. Sorry for bothering you.” he said in a rush, moving away from the door towards the staircase to escape his friend’s worried questions.

Jehan blocked him with a hand on his wrist.

“Enj, I’ve never seen you so upset before. Tell me what’s wrong, maybe I can help you?” he asked, stepping closer.

Enjolras’ lips formed a thin, stubborn line, but just as he was about to say that he was perfectly fine Jehan’s hands cupped his face, tracing his tear-streaked cheeks with his thumbs. Enjolras leaned involuntarily into the touch. Jehan smiled and said “I’m going to make you a nice cup of tea so you can tell me all about your day, ok?” Enjolras nodded without a word. He let Jehan lead him into the kitchen, then he sat on a stool and watched the poet getting busy with tea and scones.

When a steaming cup of Earl Grey was finally placed in front of him, Enjolras let out a sigh.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime Enj.” Jehan smiled.

“Could you… can we keep this between us? I mean, not the tea, the tea is lovely, but I mean…” Enjolras was actually struggling with words, and Jehan wouldn’t have believed it if it wasn’t happening right before his eyes. He reached out and placed his hand on Enjolras’ forearm.

“Enj. You don’t need to pretend that you’re not tired and fed up, you know. But I’m not going to tell anyone. You can trust me. Ok?”

The blonde gave out a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry. I just had a very bad day. I thought my speeches were reaching the people, I thought I was doing something useful with all my work, but it appears it was all for nothing. We didn’t achieve the minimum signature requirement for the petition in time for the deadline. I was really really hoping that I was finally able to do some good. I can’t… what the hell am I doing, Jehan?” Enjolras had such sadness in his eyes, such an air of defeat about him Jehan couldn’t stop himself: he pulled his friend into a tight hug, kissed his forehead and whispered fiercely “You know what? You’re going to take a shower and then you’re going to bed. You need to rest, get some sleep, and then tomorrow you can start again with your work and your petitions; because that’s what you do when things don’t go as planned. You rest and you start again the next day. You’re not a quitter Enj, and right now you need to stop thinking about it all.”

Enjolras was stunned into silence. He had never heard Jehan sound so fierce and so bossy. He obediently did as he was told, and when some time later he finally slipped into bed he felt pleasantly relaxed from the tea and the shower. He was beginning to doze off, when he felt cool fingers caressing his forehead and massaging his head. “Jehan…?” he murmured, sleepy.

“Hi. Are you comfortable?”

“Very. Thank you… but you don’t need to pamper me, you’ve already done more than enough…”

“But I want to. Come on, just close your eyes and relax, ok?”

Enjolras sighed in contentment. He burrowed further under the covers and slowly drifted off to sleep, smiling when he felt a light kiss on his temple.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Enjolras woke up but he didn’t open his eyes. He was comfortable and warm and he desperately wanted to prolong the sensation. He could feel the warmth of sunrays on his face, and a hot breath on his neck.  
He flung his eyes open and lifted his head. Jehan was in bed with him, snugly tucked against his chest. He was still sleeping peacefully.  
Enjolras smiled, remembering the previous night. Jehan had taken good care of him, and now that he had a clearer mind the blonde was fully hit by the enormity of what his sweet friend had managed to accomplish. It had been a very long time since someone had taken care of him lifting him of every thought and responsibility. It had felt good and liberating to just follow orders and let another think for him.  
Turning his head, Enjolras planted a grateful kiss on Jehan’s temple, then snuggled closer to him and fell asleep again.

He dreamt he was in bed with his lover, who was peppering his throat with hot messy kisses while rubbing himself deliciously against him. He moaned and flipped them around so that he had his lover pinned under him; he kissed him on the lips, hard and long, pulling away only when he had to breathe. His lover whined at the loss and breathlessly panted “…Enjolras…” in a voice so sinfully arousing it seemed too real for a dream. That jolted him awake. He opened his eyes and nearly fell off the bed in his haste to scramble off Jehan. It hadn’t been a dream at all.

The two friends looked at each other wide-eyed, trying to catch their breath; their cheeks were flushed crimson, their lips swollen from all the kissing.

“Oh god, Jehan, I’m so sorry!” Enjolras stammered. “I have no idea what came over me, I was still half asleep and I definitely wasn’t in my right mind. I’m terribly sorry!” He bit his lower lip, completely mortified.

Jehan hastily came to his aid. “I should be sorry. I started it, after all; I guess I was half asleep as well. I just remember having the most wonderful dream…” The poet trailed off, sighing.

“Nevertheless, it wasn’t right and I apologise.” Enjolras said firmly.

Jehan shuffled closer and looked at his friend straight in the eyes.  
“Enj, you didn’t do anything wrong. You were just following a natural instinct. It’s good to get rid of the stress. I could help you with that, you know.” Jehan offered, smiling sweetly.

Enjolras felt a shiver running down his spine and a pleasant feeling curling in his belly, but he shook his head in determination.

“No. I’m not going to use you. You’re my friend, it wouldn’t be right, Jehan. You’ve been so good to me and I couldn’t possibly repay you by doing something we both might regret. I just want to ask you… maybe we could…”

“Yes?” Jehan asked, encouraging.

“I’d love to have tea with you again sometime. It’s been so nice, and you’ve made me feel… cherished” Enjolras admitted, blushing and looking anywhere but at his friend.

Jehan’s smile could have overshadowed the sun.

“You are cherished. We can have tea together whenever you want. You’re always there for everyone, always the responsible one. I loved taking care of you for a change. And I’d love to do that again.”

Enjolrs smiled and cheerfully got up, reaching out to ruffle the poet’s hair.

“Thank you Jehan. And please, next time just give me a punch, ok? You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to.”

With an embarrassed chuckle Enjolras walked out of his room towards the bathroom. Jehan, still on the bed, watched him leave.

“But I want to” he whispered.

It was only later in the day that he realised Enjolras had said “next time”.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Enjolras and Jehan had been friends for a very long time. They attended the same university, and they met during their first year, when an English literature class turned from a reading of Shelley’s poems to a heated discussion between Jehan and their professor on whether “The Vampyre” had been written by Lord Byron or by John William Polidori (Jehan won the argument rather spectacularly).

Enjolras had approached Jehan after class and they had started talking about Romantic poetry, their professor, their favourite books, and once they discovered they both loved Earl Grey tea with a passion the boys understood they had made a friend for life.

Later they found out they had friends in common, and after two months all of them moved in together in a house close to the university.

Enjolras found that cooking dinner for everyone helped him relax after a day of studying, so almost every night he occupied the kitchen and everyone had to keep out until dinner was served.

When one evening, a few days after Enjolras’ secret little breakdown, some of the boys found Jehan perched on a stool behind the kitchen peninsula happily chatting away while Enj was busy chopping vegetables, they were completely stunned (and also a little bit outraged).

“Hey! What’s the meaning of this?” Courfeyrac asked indignantly from the threshold of the kitchen door (he didn’t dare put his feet inside the room; he had learned the hard way not to enter without permission).

Enjolras paused and looked up from the carrots to ask, puzzled: “What’s the meaning of what?”

“Of... _this_!” Courfeyrac gestured wildly in Jehan’s general direction.

“He means, why is Jehan allowed in the kitchen?” Grantaire said as he walked past the door.

“And why are the rest of us banned for life?” Bahorel added, leaning heavily on Courf’s shoulder.

“Because Jehan is quiet, polite and he doesn’t try to steal food from the pans, which is utterly annoying not to mention totally unsanitary. Joly almost had a panic attack last time one of you did it.” Enjolras answered.

Courf and Bahorel protested loudly, but they did just for show; there was no denying that Jehan was the most collected and less troublesome among them.

They both stayed at the door, though, very interested in watching the dynamic between the two. How on earth had Jehan managed to get into Enj’s good graces _at dinnertime_??

Jehan had resumed his talking; Enjolras was listening to him, occasionally telling a few words, sometimes asking him for a plate, a fork or a towel. Jehan obliged automatically, without pausing in his conversation. They had such an air of easiness and domesticity that after ten minutes of close observation Courfeyrac started smiling like a loon. He slipped away into the living room, dragging Bahorel with him.

Grantaire, who was sprawled on the sofa watching Game of Thrones on the television, raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing??” Bahorel asked, annoyed.

“Please tell me you noticed too!” Courfeyrac said excitedly.

“...”

“Oh, come on! It’s obvious Enjolras finally pulled the stick out of his arse! Bloody hell, he’s actually smiling!”

“...ookay? So what?” Bahorel asked, clearly not sharing all that excitement.

Courfeyrac grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “So he clearly likes Jehan. He likes him, _likes him_. And now we’re going to tell the others and then we’re going to play Cupid!” he concluded triumphantly.

Grantaire snorted loudly. “Jehan’s so going to kick your arse when he finds out.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I beg forgiveness for my English, I have the feeling this chapter is abominably written!  
> I don’t own Les Mis, blah blah blah.

“Courf is _so_ getting his arse kicked into the next century!” Eponine said, smirking.

Grantaire took a sip of his beer. “That’s what I told him, but he obviously didn’t listen.”

Eponine took a rag and began wiping the pub counter. “Please make sure to call me when it’s show time.”

“Of course darling.”

“So, what happened next?”

“Well, he started planning his ‘Cupid business’” Grantaire shook his head, smiling. “But then I had to answer my phone so I don’t know what he came up with... I saw him this morning though, and he said that he had a brilliant plan, and we’d understand in due time.”

“Well, let’s hope this plan goes better than the last... Marius and Cosette got together in the end, but I know for a fact Marius still has nightmares about that police officer.”

“Yes, well, nobody’s feeling guilty about that, not even Jehan. Marius was a huge pain in the ass in the weeks after he first met Cosette, you were the only one who could put up with him.”

“Oh yes, I’m a saint, I’m aware of that.” Eponine curtseyed gracefully.

“Saint Eponine, patron of annoying Pontmercys” Grantaire said, smiling.

“Shut up!” Eponine laughed.

Just then, their phones beeped at the same time. Grantaire and Eponine looked at each other.

“This is it, then.”

There was a message addressed to all of them.

_from: Courf_

_Hey guys! Since I miss your exquisite company soooo much (yes I know we live in the same house, come on, humour me), let’s go to dinner together, yeah? I booked a table at Santi’s, tomorrow at 8 pm. BE THERE. X_

“Oh dear...” Eponine said. “I think I know what’s coming next...”

Grantaire looked at her, puzzled. He was about to ask her what she meant, when she started counting backwards.

“3... 2... 1...”

Nothing happened. Grantaire arched one eyebrow.

“Well?”

“Wait a second, man of little faith.”

The phones beeped again.

_from: Courf_

_EVERYONE, DO NOT SHOW UP. I REPEAT. DO NOT SHOW UP. CURRENTLY DOING CUPID’S WORK FOR ENJ AND JEHAN. STAY AWAY. SEND TEXTS WITH BELIEVABLE EXCUSES – AT, LIKE, 7 PM. MARIUS, I’M TELLING YOU, DON’T YOU DARE SHOW UP WITH COSETTE, IT’S FAR TOO EARLY FOR A DOUBLE DATE. Ok bye._

This time Jehan and Enjolras weren’t among the recipients.

“ _This_ is Courf’s brilliant plan?” Grantaire asked in disbelief. “This is the best he could came up with?”

“Yes well... Courf isn’t particularly inventive, you know. But it could work. Except it won’t.”

“Why do you say so?”

“Oh, I’m sure Courf won’t be able to leave them alone. He’ll show up just to spy on them and they’ll notice him, or, and this is even more probable, he’ll tell the waiter to show them to a table for two, with flowers and candles. And then Enj will know that we didn’t show up on purpose. And then Jehan will kick Courf’s arse.”

Grantaire was impressed. “Wow. Shouldn’t we call Courf and warn him?”

Eponine smiled wickedly. “I don’t know... do we want to see him getting his arse kicked or not?”

Grantaire grinned devilishly. “Forget what I said.”

*

Enjolras heard footsteps heading in his direction but he didn’t look around to check on the newcomer. He stayed focused on his textbook until he finished reading the chapter. Only then did he lift his head.

“Jehan, hi.”

“Hello” Jehan replied with a smile. “Interesting chapter?”

“Edward IV and his Lancastrian wife. Very interesting actually. Those times were brutal.”

Jehan laughed. He loved English history too, but only Enjolras would be willing to minutely study the schemes and intrigues of a 500 year old royal court.

“What are _you_ studying?” Enjolras asked him when the laughter subsided.

“I’m actually trying to complete an assignment for my creative writing group. I’d like to improve my prose.”

“Really? And what’s the assignment?” Enjolras leaned forward, clearly interested. A ray of light fell on his face, lighting up his blonde locks and softening his features. Jehan widened his eyes and gasped.

“What? What’s going on?” Enjolras asked, looking around in confusion.

“Oh, n-nothing. Um. Right. My assignment! We’re concentrating on descriptions. This week we read about contemporary aesthetic canons. I’m supposed to, uh, describe a good-looking person. In vivid detail. But, you know, I didn’t find anyone available. Well, anyone worth describing, anyway. My teacher suggested we look at models online, but I’m keeping that as a last resort. I’d rather have someone alive in front of me.”

“Well, what about ‘Ponine? She’s gorgeous.”

“She is, but have you ever tried keeping her still? I’m convinced describing is basically like painting. I need a model who can keep still for more than a minute. Eponine is restless.”

Enjolras laughed at his indignant tone. Jehan observed him: his white teeth, the curve of his neck, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He swallowed. Then he fidgeted. Then he opened his mouth to talk, but changed his mind at the last second.

Enjolras noticed and stopped laughing. “What is it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing, I-”

Their phones beeped.

Jehan checked his, half relieved and half disappointed.

“Um, apparently Courf misses us, so we’re having dinner all together at Santi’s tomorrow night” he said.

“Does he realise we live in the same house?”

“He does. But you know Courf.”

Enjolras stretched out his arms. “Well, Santi’s nice. And the company’s the best.” He winked.

“ _Couldyoubemymodelplease_?” Jehan blurted out.

“I... what?” Enjolras asked, his eyes wide.

“Could- could you be my model, please?”

Enjolras didn’t reply. He just watched Jehan, mouth slightly open.

The poet flushed. “I just think your sm- um. Well, your face meets the current aesthetic canons, and there’s a ray of light that really casts a beautiful glow on your skin, I’d like to try and put that down on paper..”

“...ok.”

Jehan beamed. “Really? Are you sure? I don’t want to force you Enj, if you need to study...”

“No no, Jehan, I want to help you.”

“Don’t say yes just because you’re too nice to refuse.”

“But I want to do it, Jehan, really. Where’s the sunray?”

Jehan smiled, and walked behind Enjolras to position him. His hands lingered slightly on his shoulders, but Enjolras didn’t seem to mind.

When the poet sat down and started writing, Enjolras asked “Are you ever going to let me read that description?”

“Absolutely not.”

“...right.”

 


End file.
